Bub Plus Runt
by Lovingh3art
Summary: Wolverine and Sabretooth are involved in a real love/hate relationship - even if some aren't a fan of it. Drabbles of fun, violence, and love that the pair of feral mutants are known for.
1. The Snuggle

**A/N: Hey, X-Fans! Big fan of Wolverine and Sabretooth, so considering that I like them together, this is going to be a series of drabbles about their fun and work lives. Hope you guys are up for it or at least want to check it out.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Wolverine, Sabretooth, or any other X-Men characters in this that were created and are owned by Marvel.**

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A thick midsection brushed against Logan's arm. The feeling awoke his eyes, causing him to groan and search around for where he was. The room he was sleeping in was with Victor, until he noticed his former enemy-turned-lover sleeping on top of him. He tried moving to find that his significant other's body was suffocating. More movements only lead to a stalemate and he huffed, breathing as best he could.

"Vic…" he croaked. "Ya' need to move…"

Victor's eyes awoke, bags present to inform that he wasn't leveled-headed. "Ya' awake…yet…runt?" The half-baked taunt came out dry and small. "I'll…be right with ya.'

"Hurry up," Logan barked, a bit louder this time. He tended his arm as the other mutant sighed, lazily shifted his body over and collapsed a few inches from where he'd been. "…Better."

"Good…" The greasy-haired blonde made a few lingering breaths and gazed slowly at the other mutant. He was obviously tired. "Whatcha gonna'…do today?"

"Dunno," Logan whispered back at him, unsure. "Probably hit the bar."

A toothed fang erupted from Victor's mouth. "Sounds good to me."

Logan murmured something, shifting in the sheets until he was level with Creed's glare. "Didn't you get drunk last night and fall asleep at ten?"

"Yer one t' talk," Victor teased, "'specially since ya' couldn't stand still, what w' five beers in ya' belly."

"That ain't what happened."

"So what, I forced it on ya, runt? Admit it. Ya' just like beer."

Murmuring, Logan closed his eyes again and pinched his nose a little. "Sure…I like beer. It's just pressure that makes me do it."

"Ah…there's the truth." Victor whirled a clawed finger in the air several times, then set it down while smirking immensely at his boyfriend. "Really…what do ya' want to do today?"

Logan paused, gripping the sheet covering his lower body. His eyes met Victor and lost whatever his defense was.

"Stay in bed…probably," he whispered.

A small hum came out of Victor's throat. "Good choice, runt." He snuggled closer, his hair flopping on the sheets while his body rested next to Logan's. "Y'know I love ya, right, runt?"

A few moments passed. Logan exhaled and gave a small smile.

"I know, bub."

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Please follow, favorite, or review! More of these are incoming and I'm open to chapter ideas!**


	2. The Hat

Logan was sitting in the living room of the apartment, reading a philosophy book gifted to him by Beast. He was finding it harder to read these days and wore a pair of reading glasses, though the Harry Potter comparisons were bluntly obvious to him. He finished the chapter he was on, preparing to get a sip of water when the familiar bolt of the door unlocking sounded.

It opened and in came Victor, dressed in his colorful costume with what appeared to be some kind of child lion hat draped over his hair. His face was grumpy, even when he realized Logan was looking at him.

"What happened?" Logan asked with a smile. "You take a turn to th' local Toys R' Us?"

His partner's eyes shot a murderous red. "Shut up!" He fumed and sat down on the sofa, proceeding to rip off the stupid thing with a clear hand. "It was for a job, ok?"

"I bet it was." Logan took off his glasses and gazed at the hat. "Why didn't ya' just throw it off when you were done?"

"I can't," Victor growled lowly. "My boss needs m t' bring it back next time."

"For what? It's not like-" he paused, looked at it again and then to his lover, finally understanding the picture. "No freaking way."

"Zip it, runt," Victor threatened with a sharp claw.

Logan continued to beam at his humiliated other. "You…I mean, I can't believe -"

"Shut it."

"You were an actor? Fer kids?" He was on the verge of laughter.

Victor's face became pure anger. "I'm warnin' you, right now, Jimmy…"

"Okay, okay," Logan replied defensively, holding his hands up. "But I gotta' ask, Vic…that was yer job?"

Sabretooth looked like he was about to explode, his eyeballs enlarging like a balloon. Reluctant, he sighed and looked down. "I got hired by some frail in th' crime business. Wanted me to be a "costume character" at her kid's birthday to think that was n' actor."

"And none of th' kids knew ya' was for real?"

"As if!" He quickly stabbed a claw into the sofa, hearing the slight wheeze and pop from inside it. "They were all 'hey, Mr. Sabretooth, can I get yer autograph? Mr. Sabretooth, can I ride you like a pony?'" He used a high-pitched voice to mock the children. "Bunch a' rascals, th' kids."

Logan moved up to him on the couch, sitting down next to him. "Tired?"

"Yeah…" He looked over. "Why?"

In the time frame of a second, hard hands gripped even harder ones at Logan knelt forward and locked his tongue with Victor's mouth. Taken by surprise, the larger man relaxed into it and closed his eyes. For a few moments, they just were there, kissing. A long pause followed before the two let go.

"Feel better, Vic?" Logan asked.

"…You betcha', Jimmy. Even if I gotta be a costumed character tomorrow."

"You'll get through it," Logan said. "You'll heal."

Loud laughter followed soon after.

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 **A/N: If you're reading this, thanks! I aim to keep this going for a bit!**


	3. The Uniform

"Jimmy!"

"What?" Logan pushed his head into the room. "Kind of busy, Vic."

Victor laid on the bed lazily, perking his head up at his lover. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Getting dressed."

"'N what? Black leather?"

Logan huffed and walked into the room. He was wearing his usual blue and yellow uniform, complete with the red "X" belt buckle. All that was left were the two gloves in his hands.

"Happy now?"

The other man licked his lips. "Not bad…but yer costume needs some work."

A hard laugh echoed from Logan's mouth. "An' how would you do that?"

"Come 'ere."

Rolling his eyes, Logan walked closer. He stared down at Victor. Then his companion snaked a sharp, clawed finger up into the air and found the zipper neatly located near his neck.

"Bub, no way in h-"

"Why not?"

"'Cause I'm supposed to go on a mission today."

That got Victor's eyes energized. "Lots a' bullets and crooks?"

"…No, it's the fairy kingdom. O' course it's that!"

"But if yer gonna' get all dirty…"

"No."

"C'mere." Victor's hand worked its way up to the zipper and began pulling it down. Logan's eyes popped in annoyance.

"No."

"Yer always workin' these days. When's the last time ya' had fun?"

"Vic…"

The hand has drawn the zipper a bit more down, and the chest and hair with it popped out. "Ya' gonna' flake on me now, Jimmy? 'Sides, yer costume ain't much help against me. Too tight, innit?"

He gripped his lover's hand. "What's stoppin' me from walkin' out the door?"

Victor gulped. "Me."

 _Screw it._

Logan moved the hand back to his zipper and Victor hummed, bringing the zipper down to his waist. The costume folded down to reveal Logan's shirtless torso and arms once he'd slipped them out.

"How much time ya' got?"

"Thirty minutes tops."

"Plenty o' time." His claws sank in Logan's back as the dragged him into the bed. He could feel the blood trickle onto them. Logan responded by sticking his middle claw into Victor's left pec.

From then on, things got quite bloody and intense.

They loved it.


	4. The Haircut

"Why're we doin' this again?"

Logan sighed. "Vic, you need a haircut."

"I don't! My hair's fine as is."

"Yeah, except for it bein' long, unkempt, and getting in the way of me sleeping next to you."

 _Snort_. "Last time I checked, ya' could just move over in bed."

"What's that gonna' do?" The canuck looked to the establishment: POP'S BARBER SHOP. He'd gotten the mention from Luke Cage, and honestly, why not trust a fellow superhero? "Look, it's quick and simple. Just pay 'em, ya' walk out, and the day goes on."

"What if I don't wanna' do this, Jimmy?"

"Yer call." He patted Victor's shoulder, earning a growl. "But ask yourself this; when's the last ya' got a cut?"

Victor snarled again, but then hesitantly walked into the shop.

"Might as well…He's gonna' owe me…"

* * *

A couple hours later, Victor found Logan in the bar next door. He was reading a newspaper – well, was until he grabbed it out of his hand.

"Hey, what the-"

He stopped to look at Victor's new haircut. The mutton chops, the toothed grin, the eyes flickering between a hunter and a hustler. They were all still there.

But the long hair was gone, replaced by the familiar curly and firm shortness he remembered from those more brutal times.

Victor didn't look pleased. "Ya' like me now, runt? That Pop guy wouldn't shuddup about the gangs in this part o' town."

"Hmmm." Logan's lips curved positively. "Already liked ya', Creed. Have a seat." He beckoned to the opposite booth, then tapped the whiskey in front of him.

For a moment, Victor hesitated on whether to continue bickering or just concede.

 _Screw it,_ he thought. _Can annoy him over another time._

He took the seat and slid in, catching onto the game that the television some booths away was advertising. "Who's playing?"

"Bills 'n Lions."

"Lions gotta' have this in the bag."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that."

Victor sent Logan a shrewd tease. "Game on."


	5. The Nightmares

**A/N: If anybody's reading this, thanks! Would love to hear anyone's take on what I'm doing with these two.**

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"Grraaagghhhhh!"

Victor's eyes shoot awake. He moves under the covers, trying to ascertain where-

 _Th' living room._ No time to think why Logan's there, he pulls off the sheets to dart there. But when he arrives, the veteran hunter stops.

His lover is sprawled on the floor, his claws popped in and then back out. _Snikt!_ _Snikt!_

The emotion, pain, and denial. He's seen it all before.

It's related to his memories of Weapon X. _'Course it is._ He thought they'd be gone by now, but skeletons like those…they never stay buried.

Victor puts caution to the wind and kneels down quickly over his lover. He still screams while his arms shoot up in a frenzy. The shriek is deafening and the pain is an added annoyance.

"Logan!" He shouts. Victor's burly hands grab onto his wrists. They seem to be on the verge of holding the claws – a wild swing and more slices spill crimson. "Dammit!" The blood sprays from thin yet harsh cuts along his face and rib.

"Grraaagghhhhh!" Another hand swings and his left arm loses a gushing blast of blood. The pain's mounting.

"Logan, wake up!"

He isn't listening. All he's doing is repeating the thrashing and shrill screams that defined him then. He can't stop confusing then with the now.

"Aaaaggghhh!"

No time. No time to reason.

"Wake. Up!"

The claw sinks into Logan's pec, and his reaction is a more brutal cut into Victor's chest. The six adamantium knives slip into his stomach, the blood spurting out like a miniature hose. And then both collapse. The stench is a revolting smell that fills the entire space. The blood dries on their bodies, the wounds healing with the appendages stuck into the respective other. When an hour or two has passed, Logan's eyes bristle from the stench that the sleeping man bathes onto him.

"Vic?"


	6. The Swim

**A/N: Tobi is My Name, thank you for favoriting this and following me! You're my inspiration and i'm very happy to be doing for two characters i like as a couple.**

 **Also, thought i should mention that there's a coy _Luke Cage_ reference in chapter four. Thought you'd like to know.**

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The following evening after Logan's savage blackout, Victor got out of their Queens apartment and drove to the local YMCA. He arrived at eleven o'clock sharp. Nobody could be seen in the halls or basketball court, save for a janitor or lovestruck couple and then some. He walked to the edge of the pool to observe its cyan color.

 _Smells like pee._

Nevertheless, he needed a damn good swim. His clothes were removed in a matter of seconds, flung into a hasty pile stuffed near a sewage drain. Victor cracked his muscles into a stretch, lifted his arms, and then shot straight into the pool. The water stung at first, but the longer he waded in it, the more he got reacclimated to its' prescience.

His body hair swayed while he practiced his swimming moves. It dawned on him how long it had been since he'd swam. The last times he'd done it was either to escape after committing assassinations or dodge the hero types. Front stroke, backstroke returned naturally, but he realized that he'd missed doing it. Then a memory came to mind.

 _Summer of '78. Logan and he had been sent to an assignment in the far reaches of the Canadian wilderness to track a terrorist cell. They'd rented a cabin and were killing time the only way they knew how: smoking cigars and swimming in the lake nearby._

 _When Victor wasn't looking, Logan playfully pushed him into the water. A second later, he resurfaced with his blonde locks drenched and looking like seaweed was on top of his face._

" _Dammit, runt!" He barked, although neither knew if the tone was annoyedly or mockingly intended. "Th' hell was that for?"_

 _Logan chuckled. "Swimming practice, ya' big wet dog. Thought it'd be good if ya' got some while we're here."_

"… _Big wet dog? Ya' get yer' insults from a third-grade book, Jimmy?" He snorted some more water out of his nose while wading._

 _That seemed to get Logan riled up in the exact manner he'd intended. "Oh, I got more, Creed. Just wait til' I get in there!" He took no time off in stripping himself of his shirt and then jumping into the water._

And then he'd snapped back to reality, Eminem be damned. Victor gargled some more water and waded closer into the middle of the deserted pool. Why didn't he do this anymore? The pool made him feel like an old record, tragic and discarded because it hadn't been used for years. All he did now was kill, fuck, and swear. Where was the swimming in large bodies of water in that?

"Look cozy in there."

He circled around in the chlorine waves to observe Logan standing at the other end of the pool. The lit shadows from the pool didn't hide the fact that there was dried blood still on his shirt. Luckily, his face looked marginally more positive than before.

"Ya' sure got better," Victor scoffed.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Look, Vic…"

"Don't need ta' apologize, Logan," responded Victor. "Yer weren't 'n control. Happens." Then he motioned to his shirtless torso underneath the water. "Sides, I healed up pretty nice."

"…That's it?"

Victor paused and let the pool continue to splash over his hair.

"You expectin' something else?"

"I…look, I just thought – yer okay with this?"

"Course I am, runt." Victor swam a couple feet closer before wading in front of Logan. "Now, we gonna' splash or what?"

Logan's face paled white, yet after some careful consideration, he conceded with the familiar (at least to Victor) stripping of his shirt. The pool looked tantalizing enough, but seeing Victor smile right there for him was all he needed. The splash took a second and then he was in those big, strong arms.

"Hah!" Victor exclaimed triumphantly. "Ya' always was afraid of getting' wet!"


	7. The Cub

**A/N: Hanshowlett22, thanks for favoriting this story! And all you readers are welcome to leave reviews if you have thoughts on what's happening with this couple.**

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"No. Way."

"Aww, come on!" Victor whined, his face forming into a toothed version of puppy dog eyes. "Ya just met him."

The 'him' he was referring to was a box-sized tiger cub held up in his sturdy hands. His primal yellow eyes paid close attention to Logan's movements as if he were a rat trying to get away. While his furry orange exterior looked adorable, the small teeth extending from his lips told another story entirely.

"Fat chance," Logan dictated. "Ya can't just bring a tiger cub ya' found with Arkady in one day and say, 'hey, Logan, let's have a pet tiger cub!'" That was forgetting to mention the time he'd been mauled by tigers while exploring the Russian wilderness once.

 _Not a pleasant experience._

Whining, Victor planted himself in the rocking chair but refused to part with the animal. "Yer makin' assumptions, Logan. Just pet him. See?" He stroked a few hairs on the cub's body with a claw, the obvious reaction being a warning purr.

"Real convincing," breathed Logan sarcastically.

"That's 'cause ya' don't know him yet," Victor explained. "Kotik needs time ta' get ta' know ya."

Logan's eyed ballooned after he said the name. "Kotik? That's his name?"

"Yeah." Victor looked up, a proud glimmer in his eye. "Means 'cat' in Russian. Ya' can thank Arkady fer that."

Unconvinced but intrigued, Logan wandered closer to the couch. "He bite?"

"Habit o' his," mentioned Victor. "He likes sucking on my finger a lot o' the time. Works for us 'cause of o' healing factors. Pretty cute."

"…Cute ain't the word I'd use," Logan mumbled, reluctantly reaching out a curious hand to the cub. Sucking on Victor's finger, it had no problem with Logan petting its' fur. The touch was quite soft. Like a stuffed animal…

And then one of its freaking claws slashed his hand. He recoiled a few inches back, a small splash of blood dripping from it. "Jesus!"

Victor laughed. "Yer such a baby, Logan. He likes ya' now!"

The shorter man made an expression commonly associated with granite. "Then why do I feel like the rascal's got it out for me?" Logan sighed and walked over to the counter to get his keys. "Goin' out fer a bit."

"T' go play hero?" Victor questioned.

Logan nodded his head as he opened the door. "Somethin' like that. Also…the cub can stay."

"Knew you'd come around!" Victor's face brightened akin to a birthday cake.

"Eh, eh," Logan interrupted. "Th' cub can stay IF you pay for its' needs. Food, waste removal, grooming. All you, bub."

"Deal, but he sleeps with ya.'"

"Didn't ya' get him a dog bed or somethin'?" Logan asked incredulously.

Victor raised a blond eyebrow. "Logan, he's a tiger. There ain't any standards with them as pets."

"…Right." And with that, the door was closed.

 _Boy, this place'll be hell 'n a week with the two o' them,_ Victor thought.


	8. The Ex

_Ping!_

"Shit."

"What?" Logan looked up from his milky cereal to his hulking boyfriend. "Forget something?"

"Nope, smarty claws. Raven texted."

His spoon dropped into the milk-white, replaced by a clenched fist. "Mystique? What's she want?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Apparently, frail left some cash in a wall or somethin.'

"You sure she 'nt lying?"

"Would she send me this if she were lying?" Victor flipped the phone around to show the message to Logan, reading:

VICTOR, I LEFT SOME MONEY IN YOUR APARTMENT A WHILE AGO. I'M COMING A LITTLE AFTER 1:00 TO PICK IT UP. F*** WITH ME, AND YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET IT. Next to the end of the message was a skeleton's head, better defined as the death emoji (if It weren't for Armor's intervention, neither would know what that specifically meant).

"Rough," Logan commented.

"No biggie," Victor breathed.

Logan's eyeballs budged. "No biggie? She's your ex, an' I killed her once. Ya' don't think she might overstep when she comes over?"

"Yer overtsteppin,'" Victor taunted. "We got healing factors, an' all she wants is money. She'll probably be here five minutes, tops.

Sighing, Logan looked down to his cereal. "Ya' sure you passed math in grade school?"

Victor snorted as he reached for a banana from the fruit basket. "Nah. Wasn't a bright bulb back then. …Why?"

"Nevermind," Logan mused, pushing a finger through the orange furs of the sleeping Kotik.

* * *

Right at one o'clock, the doorbell to the flat rang. Somewhat worriedly, Victor got up and walked to the door, hesitant about opening the nob. Sweat poured down his arm, then dispersed as a second and louder ring sounded.

 _Pack it in,_ he thought defiantly. The door opened after that.

There she was – Mystique. Blue skin, red hair, and yellow eyes that masked a duplicitous and dangerous woman incapable of sticking to one thing for too long. She looked impatiently up to him from her phone, as if he'd been the one to waste her time.

' _Cept that's what frail's doin' here, 'innit?_

Her eyes narrowed. "Victor."

"Raven," he responded back, his teeth gritting into a portion of a growl. "Yer here. Care to come in?"

"Gladly," she expunged before strolling right past him. Her eyes looked around the sofa, couple of tables, and the rest of the apartment they called home. He couldn't tell if she were judging the condition of the place or how the two lived normally. "Quaint."

"Guess so…" Victor rubbed the back of his head and passed her before settling on the couch, legs locked together in an elongated motion on the carpet. "So, where's this cash ya' left here? Anything I can do to find it?"

"No."

"Hah!"

She sighed. "I know where I stashed it, Victor, back when it was just me and you, and you were a heavy drunkard. Now if you don't mind-"

"Don't come in the bedroom!" Logan's voice shouted from behind the bedroom door. Astonished, she turned to the white entrance and heard frantic scratching mixed in with heavy grunting. "Trust me, ya' don't want to mess with Kotik here!"

She swirled back to Victor with a shocked gape. "I thought the rumors about you and him were…but…"

"What?" Victor asked defensively. "Ya' got a problem with it?"

Mystique rolled her eyes. "Not in the slightest." She looked to the wall column next to the kitchen, trotting over to it and leaning down to feel the wall creases with her fingers. "Hmmm…"

"That's where it is?" Victor asked with raised eyebrows. "Coulda' just told me-

"-Shhhh," she demanded. "I just need to find the fixture and then – ahh!" Her yellow eyes curved with glee; she had found what she'd been waiting for. Nothing else to lose, her hand clenched as she knocked it into the wall. A small cloud of dust and white paint erupted from the gaping hole in the wall. As Victor coughed a few times due to the dusty air, he realized that the bag of money Mystique had been clamoring for was right there, mint condition no less.

Then she grabbed it.

"That's that," Mystique called absentmindedly. She took one last look around the apartment before heading to the door. "Oh! By the way, Victor…I heard a rumor about a job in Madripoor for an up-and-coming crime lord. Interested?"

The hunter's arms locked and seemed to become stiff as he gazed at her. She seemed to be sincere…just like before. "…I'll think 'bout it, Raven."

A scoff sounded off before the door closed. "Suit yourself." He caught a flash of blue leaving and then the apartment was quiet.

"It okay to come out? To bring him out?" Logan asked from behind the white doors in a strained voice.

"Yeah, yeah."

The white door to the bedroom opened, and an energetic Kotik ran out with a red piece of clothing in his teeth. Looking up, Victor saw Logan stumbling forward with several deep claw marks in his red felt shirt and a healing scrape on his neck.

"Handful, huh?" Assumed Victor cheerfully.

"Hell o' a lot more than that," Logan deadpanned. He looked back to the kitchen column – or more precisely, the hole. "Jesus. That's where th' money was?"

"Looks like," Victor surmised.

Logan looked to his other, and for the first time in a while, he came to realize that something was off. He was…serious.

"What's wrong?"

Victor gulped. "Nothing's wrong. Raven's gone, so-"

"Cut the crap, Creed," Logan admonished with folded arms. "We both suck at lyin', so just spill it."

"…Raven just came in and asked if I wanted to join her on a gig in Madripoor." His claws instinctively tightened as he said this.

Contemplative, Logan joined him on the couch. "Do you?"

"Dunno," he replied. "But…it was just so…cold. Like I never mattered to her. I know I thought I'd moved on, but…just…"

The apartment became ever more solitary around them, and Logan could feel it. Victor seemed to gaze at the gaping hole for too long. He knew it wasn't good to be feeling the desperation and loneliness, but yet he persisted. So he did the only thing he could think of.

"Well…I still think yer great, bub."

Victor felt a weight on his side, looking to find a surprisingly cheery-faced Logan nuzzling into him. The toothed frown slowly faded away as he came to remember all that he'd been through, and more importantly, had now.

"Thanks, runt."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the views and reviews, people. Feel free to favorite, review, or follow if it pleases you. Also? Victor grew his hair back after that chapter he lost it, in case some wondered about that.**


	9. The Shrinkage

**A/N: Thank you guest for the review!**

* * *

"Oh, my stars and garters…"

Petrified with a present shock, Hank "Beast" McCoy couldn't help but stare with big eyes at the pair of people sitting on his table. A pair of _tiny_ people, to be precise: Wolverine and Sabretooth.

"Not exactly helpful, Hank," Logan deadpanned in his colorful costume.

"Sorry…It's just…I never expected to see the two of you at this size."

"Ain't that reassuring?" Sabretooth whined.

Putting a furry hand to his temple, Beast sat down on his lab chair and faced the two of them. His eyes scrunched. "Apologies, Victor. Apparently, I wasn't being enough of a scientist for your specific taste."

"Ya' big-"

"Hey, hey!" Logan stuck his tiny hands out between his partner and his teammate (who, at his size, had a face the size of a building). "Hank, there's got ta' be a way fer us to get back to normal size, right?"

"That depends, Logan-"

"-And Victor!" The blonde yelled out.

Beast sighed. "Logan _and_ Victor. As I was going to ask, how exactly did you two end up like this? Piotr said he found you in the sewer entrance near Central park."

"Sinister," Logan responded. "Got a tip from a source that he was experimenting somewhere around there with runaways. So I thought I'd check it out."

"And you thought it was a good idea to bring Sa-your boyfriend?" Hank's eyes wandered over to the petite mercenary, suspicious.

"Since when is that a bad idea?" Victor responded, folding his arms over his brown-and-orange suit. "Worked fer him once, so I knew th' area. And I figured It'd be nice to do th' runt a solid."

"Anyway," Logan continued, "We got in, and the first thing he did was spray us with a yellow chemical that went everywhere. An' then we blacked out."

Victor rubbed his head in annoyance. "Really got me out good. Think it's th' stuff that Ant-Man punk uses. What's it called again?"

Beast cleared his throat. "Pym Particles. They're a subatomic molecule that can be manipulated to shrink or grow people and objects. Sinister clearly stole some recently…"

"Then ya' can fix this with some more?" Logan asked, his mask's white eyeholes looking hopeful.

"…I think," Beast got out.

"What'cha mean 'ya think?'" Victor demanded.

"Let's just say that as of this moment, I don't know where Hank Pym is. I'd probably need to contact the Wasp and the current Ant-Man to ascertain his location."

"Which means we're sitting ducks," concluded Logan.

"Unfortunately." Beast locked his blue fingers together. "For the current time, you two would be safer resigned on my desk."

"Aw hell no!" Victor scowled with fury. "I am not sitting here because o' some stupid science crap! If ya want me to feel all mopey an' whatnot, go find some b-level X-Man! Me, I'm-"

If Sabretooth had been paying attention, he might've realized that the book he angrily punched had started to lurch. By the time he was halfway through his tirade, he looked up in horror and could only gape as the red science journal fell onto him. Wolverine shrieked in surprise and Beast's mouth fell open.

"Oh dear!" Hank lifted up the journal as fast as he could, only to be rewarded with a hilarious sight; the weight seemed to have been so great that it ended up flattening Sabretooth to the point of squishing certain parts of his body. His warped face looked up in anger.

"Hate you…McCoy…" he wheezed in pain.

Logan chuckled. "Plain ol' Victor."

* * *

 **A/N: Approaching a bit of an endgame here sooner rather than later. I can promise texting, some emotions, and a good look at their relationship in earnest at the climax of this. If you guys have any suggestions or takes on this, feel free to share!**


	10. The Texts

**A/N: Thanks a lot for the following and reviews, people! If anyone has any prompt suggestions for these two, feel free to shoot it off in the comments section.**

* * *

Sweat baked into Logan's forehead as he looked down at the number of students in his class. Most were focused on finishing their history exam, but one or two of the usual troublemakers were exchanging glances every once in a while. Some days, he just wished he was psychic like the rest o' them.

 _RING!_

"All right, whose phone is buzzing?"

The students looked at him, each other, and the rest of the room. "Uh, it's not me, sir," Idie explained.

"Me neither," Nature Girl added.

 _RING!_

The Canadian's eyes zeroed in on Quintin Quire in the back. "Quire, that better not be you."

The pink-haired boy laughed. "Are you kidding me? You think I'm stupid enough to have my phone on during a test that, let me remind you, I need to pass?"

"Then whose is it!?"

 _RING_!

Armor raised a hand. "Professor Logan-san?"

"What, Hisako?"

"I-I think it's your phone sir." She lobbed a finger at the wooden desk he was leaning on. True to her word, his phone was there, and it buzzed fervently once again. A snicker could be heard from some kid in the back.

"…"

"Embarrassing, huh?" piped Quintin.

"Can it, Quire!" Logan warned, grabbing his phone and heading to the door. His head shot back. "Hisako, ya' finish the test already?"

"Yes-"

"Need ya to take over for a couple minutes. Be right back."

Before Hisako could answer, he closed the door and walked a couple halls into a hidden spot behind an awards case. Then his fingers opened the phone, and it was a sheer motherload of texts that made his eyes enlarge.

[Sup, runt? Need a favor]- _Victor, 9:45 am_

[Hey, Runt. Really need your help with something. Like, NOW.]- _Victor, 9:46 am._

[Logan, ya' gonna respond or WHAT?!] _\- Victor, 9:47 a.m._

[RUNT!]- _Victor, 9:48 am_

 _Well, that isn't annoying at all._ Actually, it made Logan feel quite the opposite. Well…nevermind that bit. He shot a text message back, hoping to figure out why Victor needed him so badly to interrupt his school job.

* * *

Victor leaned back against the bathroom wall, starting at his phone, the lockbox, and then the phone again. Where was the runt? It wasn't like him to not respond when he needed his help. Actually, that's probably what it was. He was just toying with Victor that way.

...He assumed... But then where had that gotten him with Logan?

PING! The phone buzzed warmly, so his fingers flew to the task of opening it up. There was a text…

[Bub, what is it? In the middle of class right now _._ ]- _Logan, 9:52 a.m._

 _Finally!_

* * *

[Sorry ta' interrupt ya, but need help getting into th' lockbox. What's the code again?]- _Victor, 9:53 a.m._

"…th' hell?"

And then his fingers furiously typed back.

* * *

[THAT's what you interrupted me fer? It's simple, dummy! Remember?]- _Logan, 9:54 a.m._

* * *

[You think that if I did, I'd be textin' ya?]- _Victor, 9:54 a.m._

[Fine! 2000! Happy?]- _Logan, 9:55 a.m._

[…Oh. It worked! Thanks, sorry!]- _Victor, 9:56 a.m._

[Vic?]- _Logan, 9:56 a.m._

[What?]- _Victor, 9:57 a.m._

[I'm gonna make sure ta' pay ya' back fer this…]- _Logan, 9:58 a.m._

* * *

On the other end of the line at home, Victor gulped but then smiled as he looked at the fruits of his efforts: a photo of Wolverine in a pink bunny costume.

It had been totally worth pissing him off.


	11. The Catharsis

"Runt!"

"What?!"

Victor's head popped into the living room of the mansion, seemingly unafraid to interrupt an addictive football match. "I need to talk t' ya."

"In th' middle of a game here," Logan briskly shot back. He took a swig of the beer, then carefully wiped his lips with his eyes still glued to the screen. "Can it wait?"

"Sorry, kinda' urgent. But, if ya' want to be lazy, then take yer time. Just meet me outside when ya' can," Victor finished before disappearing into the halls.

Logan shared a look with the other X-Men in the room, all of whom had raised eyebrows. "What?" He demanded.

"Well, he did want to talk to you…" Bobby offered.

"Scientifically speaking, it does sound important," Hank added from his chair.

The final decider, Piotr, kept his arms folded with a face obviously contemplating what to say. "Go talk. We will be here, comrade."

Naturally, Logan wasn't one to bow to other's nagging. But when your boyfriend and three of your closest friends told you to do the thing you dreaded most – and during a football match – you did it anyway.

"…Fine…" He moaned, getting up and stretching slightly. "Make sure to tell me who wins when I get back, Drake. I _mean it._ "

When he trotted out, Bobby laughed nervously. "He…he was kidding, right?

* * *

Logan's sense of direction pointed to the grounds outside the mansion's large patio. Victor was sitting near several piles of leaves and grass clippings, evident signs that summer was upon them all.

"What's up, bub?" Logan asked.

"C'mere," Victor directed, pointing to a spot near him. Logan hesitantly sat down. He still didn't fully trust whatever his lover had in mind.

"Look, is this some sort a' game, or-"

In the flash of an instant, Victor's hand grabbed his own. It was warm and soft – and the clawed nails nowhere near directed into his skin.

"I like ya, and I need ya' to know that." The words escaped victor's mouth before he could restrain himself. His cheeks blushed, as did Logan's. "I know I'm not the best boyfriend, and I can be a dick sometimes…But…I'm in this fer the long run. I thought ya' should know that."

Logan's face melted from the strained look possessing it. Opposite it, Victor looked like he might shrink into himself.

"I-"

The hairy hand resting on Victor's face shushed him. It was warm, warmer than all of his half-baked attempts. And for once, there wasn't an insult attached back to it. It was genuine.

"I know, bub."

Anyone, psychic powers be damned, could see what was next as they embraced and locked lips.

The history of Wolverine and Sabretooth was long and bloody. It was more complicated than it had any right to be; The X-Men's members could testiest to the pure matter of it. Yet, like every conflict, this was the time of ceasefire and celebration.

It was more than worth time for it.


	12. The Poem

"Roses are red, violets are blue…

"Okay, that just sounds stupid," Creed declared.

Jubilee looked up from her laptop at him, rolling her eyes. "Creed, that's the sixth time you had a problem with this. You're sure you actually want to go through with writing a poem? It's not rocket science."

"Ain't my fault if ya' make it dopey," Creed shot back, "but It needs to fit the runt."

"…Fine."

Sprawled on top of an empty classroom's desk, Creed knew this had been a mistake asking for the frail's help. Yet he didn't have any other ideas for a gift to him, and he was at wit's end here. Google – and his empty wallet – had pointed to making a poem as the best gift for your significant other. He just didn't imagine the process to be this complicated.

"How's this? Like snowflakes upon the ground, you make me…"

The blonde ex-assassin snorted. "No chance 'n hell."

"…What do you want in it, then?" Jubilee looked like she was at her limit with him.

A clawed finger crooked up at his chin, thoughtful. He needed something, but the inspiration inside of him was as dry as summer grass.

"Well, most of th' good times we had was being on Team X."

"Team X? Like, Weapon X?" Jubilee asked.

Creed chuckled and bent forward in his chair. "Think the beta version of it, but yeah."

"You really think it's' a good idea to remind your boyfriend of the time you and him were on a clandestine team of killers?!" Jubilee pointed out.

Silence followed. "What about bringing up his past loves, 'n comparing' them t' me?"

"Oh, that's such a great idea," Jubilee responded with heavy sarcasm. "I mean, it's not like Silver Fox and Mariko and Jean are all dead…"

"Alright, Alright! I get yer point, pup!" Creed held his hands up in defeat, grimacing. "Well, what else 's there?"

The teenage mutant sighed once again and put the computer down, staring into his eyes with determination. "You know what I think your problem is? You don't know what Logan wants."

"Say what?" Victor said as he leaned back and folded his arms.

"What I'm saying is that you spent all this time trying to what you think he wants. But did you ever try to consider his perspective?"

"…No."

Jubilee cocked her eyebrow. "Maybe _you_ should do that."

* * *

Logan barged through the door of his quarters hastily and shut it, blood from his recent mission still on his uniform. He needed a shower, a bunch of steaks, and some beers to wipe away the memories. Temporarily. Then he spotted the envelope on the counter and picked it up, blood absorbing into it as he opened the card from within.

 _Hey, runt. I ain't good at this, and I know this is gonna' be corny, so just hang on with me here…_

 _Ya' make me feel good, but I want ya' to know that I'm here for what ya' want, too._

 _So if ya' want to go t' a movie or do something you're into, I'd be up for it._

 _Just let me know._

 _Love…Vic._

 _P.S. There better be at least one steak night a week._

Logan smiled. The pain and stress faded away, and for once he was happier than he'd been in a long time.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I know I haven't updated in a while, but I thought this should be the last chapter since I need time to focus on other things. Also, I ran out of ideas for chapters, so there's that. If you liked or read this, thanks a ton!**


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